


Cadence

by VioletBehaviour



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Ballet, F/M, Mention of Death, Personal Growth, Queen and Bowie, Sing Me a Rare, Song fic, Strangers to Lovers, dance, under pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 10:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletBehaviour/pseuds/VioletBehaviour
Summary: Theo was a skilled dancer, working his entire life for his mother's legacy. But his best just wasn't enough. At least not alone.





	Cadence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Vol.2.  
> Song Prompt - Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie
> 
> This goes unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are my own. I am working on an extended version currently with a beta :)

 

The bottle lay on its side in Theo’s limp hand, remnants of the amber liquid dripped from the glass tip as he wobbled in his chair. Heavy lids distorted his vision, his eyes squinting as he attempted to adjust them to the darkness within the room. He replayed the events leading him back to the bottle he was currently entangled with. The habit he’d finally been able to kick those three years ago when the pressure was too much.

He was a skilled dancer, never stepping out of time or forgetting to accentuate his arms and legs, emphasizing the strength and training he allowed to flow so confidently through his body. He had his mother to thank for that - the woman who dedicated her life to the art, taking Theo along with her as she advanced to new levels and achievements, making her way towards the top. She was immaculate; perfecting ballet in the most economical of ways. He promised to follow in her shoes, though he wasn’t particularly literal in the sense of strapping into her pointe slippers. Theo was determined to give life back to her in the only way he knew how,  vowing to join the same dance academy she attended long before he came into this world, but continued to share with him long after he had arrived.

His mother’s smiling face flashed briefly in his mind, her determination to help him believe he could be the dancer he was today evident in her eyes. Theo felt the frown form on his face, the sadness of her loss momentarily taking precedence over the disappointment he felt with himself. He took another large swig of rum from the bottle, draining the last of the contents before discarding it altogether. The dull thud of the thick glass landing on the worn linoleum floor reverberated through his mind, his thoughts whirling in sync with the rough sound of it rolling away.

It was all for naught. His best never truly _being_ enough. His future died alongside the woman he promised to keep alive - her death resurfacing as his failure spilled over the melodic sounds of the piano. _It wasn’t enough._

♫ • ♫

_The dust particles speckled under the heat of the lighting. Precision. Poise. Theo listened to the sound of the piano as it echoed around the auditorium, stepping in time. He was focused, dancing flawlessly and landing another perfectly positioned leap. There was no pause in his routine. It was the same routine he had heavy on his mind – and body – for the past six months, yearning to prove he had exactly what it took to be the next male lead in the most renown ballet company in the country – Baeuxbaton’s Academy of the Arts._

_The height of his jumps showed strength, the extension of his arms displaying the strict training he’d endured for years prior to his audition today. He had cursed his old head instructor, Minerva, for the strain she had put him through leading up to this moment. But despite those long hours, he was thankful for her persistence as he came to the end of his routine._

_She was a right mean old broad, pushing him every day to the point of near exhaustion before calling an end to the day’s lesson. Most days he found his time spent in the air above the floor rather than on it, Minerva demanding he do cabrioles back and forth the length of the studio without glancing at his reflection in the mirror. It proved to be a hard task at first, as Theo rather enjoyed the handsome young man staring back at him on the mirror’s surface._

_He later found this to be fruitless, diverting his gaze altogether with an elegant sneer. He outwardly applauded Minerva for her efforts of training, but internally Theo knew the blatant disregard of his older reflection was merely due to the tricks the reflective glass  displayed the haunting likeness to his father's features._

_He was breathless by the time he took his bow, the music coming to an end. Rock-steady. Fluidity. Theo waited briefly, eying the expressionless faces of the judges before jerking his head in a nod and exiting the stage. He was the last to audition that day, spending the hours prior to his audition practicing backstage, stretching and counting his steps over and over. He had nailed his routine; each step on time and each move extended. It wouldn’t be long now before he could celebrate alongside his fellow dancers in the academy. Theo wasn’t worried, again reassuring himself of the perfection that was his execution in the routine._  
  
♫ • ♫

The water was ice cold when it splashed over his face, causing his skin to sting and his head to ache. He opened his eyes and squinted at the blurry silhouette standing over him as he laid sprawled out on the couch in his flat’s tiny living room. Blinking, he inclined his head to his assailant, his friend’s face slowly coming into focus.

“Blaise?” Theo’s voice was rough, his throat feeling the lingering effects of the rum as he slowly sat up. “You’re home early.” Theo ran his hand grudgingly down his face, groaning at the change in his position, his head screaming in protest.

“Actually, I’m not.” Blaise’s tone held a tinge of disappointment. “Please tell me you haven’t been laid up like this since your audition.” Theo dropped his hand in his lap, glaring at Blaise through heavy lids.

“Okay. I won’t.”

“That was _two days_ _ago_ , Theo!” Blaise threw his arms up in frustration, mumbling something in Italian Theo didn’t quite understand before darting to the kitchen. “Get your arse up, Nott. I’m getting you out of this flat.” Blaise’s voice carried from the kitchen and Theo grimaced at the way it seemed to pierce his eardrums.

In truth, he did _not_ want to go out. He was perfectly content with spending his time at home, wallowing in his own self-pity and drowning the pain – or embarrassment – in large bottles of rum. He’d just had his entire life shattered before his very eyes. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was go dancing, which was usually Blaise’s idea of _out_. The word alone caused his body to cringe, ruling out the possibility of it being the rum.

“You have _got_ to stop this.” Blaise was looming over him again, standing with his arm stretched out and holding a glass of thick green liquid. “ _Drink.”_

“It’s easy for you, B.” Theo said taking the glass and allowing it to hang loosely in his grasp. “You have everything you asked for at your fingertips. I’m not like you.” Theo sunk back into the cushions, physically feeling the frown deepen on his face.

“To be fair, _no one_ is like me.” Blaise’s features softened, his arms shifting and raised at his sides. “Perfection is not easily duplicated.”

“You are such a git.”

“Correction. _You’re_ the one sitting on the couch reeking of old booze. Which, by the way, stinks.”

Theo’s shoulders dropped, remembering the last time he was in this state. Just like now, Blaise was the one who got him back on his feet and back to dancing. He had stayed late that night with Minerva, working towards the goal he’d heard his mother talk about since before he could stand. He never anticipated his father would go that far. Theo wasn’t there to protect her, wasn’t there to _stop_ it. By the time Theo ventured home, it was too late.

The drinking habit he acquired came from his fanatic of a father, ripping through his old man’s stash the moment he was left alone. The drink stole an entire year from Theo’s life at a mere sixteen before Blaise and his mother took him in.

“Before we go _anywhere_ , I’m going to need you to freshen up. You straight up smell like a distillery.” Blaise’s nose was in the air, his features scrunched. Theo slowly rose from the couch, his legs tense from sitting too long and stumbled towards the back of the flat to shower.

The steam from the water slowly cleared his head, the soap washing away more than just the grime of the past two days of neglect. He could hear Blaise outside the door rushing him, and he tried his best to move quickly, but his body resisted, his movements sluggish, causing him to take twice as long as it normally would to dress. When he finally emerged from his room, he leaned against the door frame, meeting an impatient Blaise who stood with his arms crossed.

“Come small child. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“I highly doubt it,” Theo replied to his friend’s back, launching himself from the frame and grabbing his coat.

♫ • ♫

The dark club was filled with people, all dancing and swaying to the booming bass bellowing from the surrounding speakers. Theo tried not to grimace at the sight – he hated crowds – but his failure was evident the moment he felt Blaise nudge his shoulder to his right, rolling his eyes as he laughed, and beckoning his friend to follow him towards the bar. The two friends made it about halfway through the open space when Blaise stopped abruptly, changing directions on him altogether. Theo followed suit, dodging a near run in with a waitress carrying a full tray of beverages.

“Blaise!” Cried a tall, handsome man in a vibrant meshed tank top. The two cupped hands and presented the manliest hug Theo had ever seen. “We were starting to think you weren’t going to make, mate!”

“And miss the chance to show you up on the dance floor? I would never forfeit such an opportunity!” Blaise was laughing as a blonde girl handed him a beer from a bucket in the center of their high-top table.

“I’ve seen your sorry arse for two weeks straight whilst on the road, I was actually hoping to avoid seeing it tonight.” Another girl, a fiery redhead, was smirking across the table at Blaise, who politely grinned in response.

“Oh, Ginny, when are you going to confess your undying affections for me, love?” Blaise rested against his elbows, leant casually over the table towards Ginny.

The redhead scoffed, snorting into her glass of ale. “You wish, B.”

“Who’s your friend?” The blonde girl asked biting her bottom lip and eying Theo intently.

“This is my boy, Theo.” Blaise slapped him hard on the shoulder, shoving him forward into the table. He grunted on impact, but straightened with a light flick of his wrist in a lazy wave. “Theo, meet the gang - Ginny, Hannah, and that’s Cormac getting shot down by yet _another_ waitress.” Cormac whipped around at the sound of his name, his immaculately groomed eyebrows rising.

“You are mistaken my good man! For it was _I_ who shot _her_ down.” Casanova Cormac smiled, flashing his white teeth that appeared to shine even under the dimness of the club’s lighting. “I can’t keep these women off me if I tried.”

In unison, Theo watched as the other three simultaneously rolled their eyes. Clearly, this Cormac thought way higher of himself than the rest of them did, something Theo could once relate to before his failed audition. Despite the blunt disregard from his friends, Cormac joined in with the laughter surrounding the table.

“So, _you’re_ Theo,” the blonde, Hannah, said with something Theo couldn’t quite place flashing in her eyes. “About time you came around! We’ve heard lots about you!” He could of sworn she threw him a wink, but he blamed the shift in the lighting.

“It’s true. Blaise, here, says you’re a Baton’s Boy now.” Ginny quirked an eyebrow as she noticed too late the slicing gesture Blaise was making under his chin with his hand. She cleared her throat quickly. “Ugh - boxing. A _boxing_ boy. Now.”

Theo didn’t miss the look in her eyes when he didn’t respond, instead grabbing one of the beers from the center bucket on the table. His face hardened, hiding the disappointment he felt underneath his cold exterior. Even Blaise expected him to get in. Theo tightened his lips, tossing a flippant cheers with a raise of his beer before taking a too large sip from the bottle. Blaise interjected, however, placing his hand on Theo’s forearm.

“Let’s dance, shall we?”

Though she tried to hide it, Theo caught the mouthed _sorry_ from Ginny’s lips in Blaise’s direction before she took his hand. Cormac was quick to follow them to the dance floor. Hannah, however, sat back in her chair, pulling a rolled cigarette from her bra.

“You gotta light?” She was smirking, a blonde eyebrow arched and her back straight as she leaned into him. Her face caught the lighting hanging above, and Theo couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was.  The typical ballerina, save for the cigarette between her fingers. When he finally shook his head, she frowned, leaning back and picking up a pack of worn matches.

Theo propped himself against the table, watching his best mate and his friends bounce and sway along to whatever it was the DJ deemed fit to play. He smiled, though the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt the lightest of touches trickle across his shoulder blades as Hannah stood beside him, both eying the dance floor intently when the lights dimmed. Theo heard Hannah laugh, her hands clapping together when three silhouettes descended the smoke covered stairs. The music had changed completely, people clearing the floor as the three women took over - two in back, one on point. It was then that Theo found he couldn’t pull his eyes. _The people on the streets_ . But they were on a _stage_.

The very beat of his heart vibrated in his chest alongside the bass in the song while his fingers tapped the thigh of his jeans, counting to the counts in step with the hips of the women on the floor. Their movements were effortless, and he watched the woman on point dominate in a way he’d never seen before.

She didn’t dance to the music around her, the music danced to _her_. Theo took a step forward, then two, his eyes following the length of her arms, her long dark hair as she spun under the ever shifting colors of the lights above. She was practically glowing, a smile radiating and brightening her features as she glided freely with the beat around them. He felt pressure on his arm, Hannah handing over the cigarette from her hand and skipping out to the women on the floor, joining in to their ever changing routine. Reluctantly, Theo’s eyes pulled from the woman leading the dance, searching the lines of people for Blaise. When he caught the flaming red hair of Ginny first, Blaise was behind her already walking to join in themselves. His eyes flicked back to the dancing goddess, his hand slowly raising to steal a drag from the cigarette in his hand. Theo wasn’t a smoker, choking on the smoke as it entered his lungs. He tossed the maniacal rolled paper to the ground, recentering his focus and ignoring the scratch in his throat.

He hesitated, practically tripping over his feet and momentarily forgetting he was a dancer at all, losing all grace as he strode forward. This wasn’t his style of music, used to that of Tchaikovsky - the sweet sounds of strings and woodwinds. Here, though, here he followed the harsh tones of guitars and drums; electronically made beats with no depth or meaning. The woman of his attentions made it all look so easy, emphasizing her steps to reflect the profundity lacking from the music itself.

Theo refused to look down at his feet while he learned the steps. His mind running back to a certain elderly instructor with a tight gray bun and stern expression, slapping the back of his thigh with a cane any time his eyes shifted anywhere _other_ than directly in front of him. Stiffly, he transitioned from one move to the next, picking up the routine the mob was performing. _And enjoying it._

By the time the song ended, he had perfected every step, per usual. He could memorize any routine if he focused hard enough, and when the last note hit, he personally felt he could rival anyone else in the room - including the dancing woman.

“Theo!” He barely had a chance to peer up when he felt arms wrap around his neck, Hannah’s heels kicking up into the air behind her. She had him in a tight, playful embrace, a smile spread his across his lips in spite of himself. “That was brilliant!” She said standing again, lingering her hands around his neck. Ginny and Blaise walked up behind her, slightly breathless and shimmering with signs of sweat.

“The routine was easy once you figured out the order of steps.” Theo was beaming at the praise, unable to hide the pride from his smirk.

“Do you always present your hands like that?”

Theo’s eyes flicked forward, meeting the dark painted eyes of the woman who initially stole his attentions. Hannah dropped her arms as the woman walked up and stood beside her and Ginny, the other two women in tow. She crossed her arms over her large chest, and he tried to ignore the way her pressed arms amplified the size of her breasts against her tightly fitted green tank. He cleared his throat.

“My hands?”

“Yes,” She began, raising her arm and presenting her hand over her head. “You’re entirely _too technical_. Relax, Twinkle Toes.” And then she was gone. In fact, all of the women in the group left together, leaving Theo with Blaise and Cormac to stand alone in a circle.

“When did you get here?” Blaise was side-eyeing Cormac with a surprised expression.

“What? I’ve been here the entire time. Surely you’re not suggesting I simply _blended_ in with the crowd? Because that is just ridiculous.” Cormac adjusted the mesh on his tank top as Theo stood stunned at the mystery woman’s words. _Too technical?_

“You alright over there?” Blaise asked, tossing an arm around his shoulder and walking them out towards the streets. Theo craned his head over Blaise’s arm, watching as the women from both their party and _hers_ laughed together, trying to decipher what she meant by _too_ _technical_. Technique was literally _everything_. He was lost on attempting to understand her meaning, too transfixed to be bothered with the horrid nickname she flippantly  tossed his way.

♫ • ♫

Theo’s mind was still swirling when the they arrived back to his flat. He’d long since tuned Cormac out, who had been rambling on about the so-called blonde he schmoozed up at the club. Theo was certain he would have tuned him out regardless, but Theo’s thoughts remained on the mystery girl he left behind in the bar.

“-then I told her it was getting late and I had a puppy to get home to. What is it with these broads and puppies? She practically dropped her panties for me right there!” Cormac plopped down in the center of the couch, an irritated Blaise right behind him. Theo leant against an old chair, crossing his legs at the ankles to match his arms over his chest.

“I’m sure.” Blaise rolled his eyes at the lovestruck man beside him, inclining his gaze to Theo. “Admit it. _You_ had fun.”

“I admit nothing, B. Although my interests have been piqued.” Theo brought his arms down, unable to sway his mind. “Hannah and Ginny were talking to a girl at the bar. Who was she?”

Blaise and Cormac exchanged looks, neither seeming to know the answer.

“They talked to a lot of women, Theo,” Blaise said sitting back. “I swear they have more game than we do.”

“Speak for yourself. Are you referring to the girls we left them with?” Cormac was smiling into a compact mirror that clearly must have appeared from thin air, because Theo could of sworn those pants of his didn’t have pockets. “Those are some of the Basilisk girls.”

“Oh, no way! I didn’t know they frequented that spot.”

“I’m sorry but… what is a Basilisk Girl?” Theo was sitting now, his elbows on his knees and giving Cormac more attention than Cormac was giving himself, which was a lot.

“The _Basilisks_ is a company that literally pisses on every formal rule of dance you learned in school.” Blaise chimed in, kicking off his shoes.

“Pretty much. Oh!” Cormac dropped his arm holding the mirror and peered up at Theo. “I know the instructor. Crazy git. If you want, I can get us into one of their rehearsals.”

“I’m curious as to exactly _how_ you came to know _the_ Gil.” Blaise didn’t seem convinced, carrying a bored expression as he waited for his friend to give him an explanation. Cormac simply smiled in response.

“Do you want to go or not?”

In unison, Theo and Blaise nodded in agreement, both curious for what went on behind the closed doors of the Basilisks Studio. Both for entirely different reasons.

♫ • ♫

The studio was smaller than he imagined, the fluorescent lighting hanging low above the green flooring. Cormac led Theo and Blaise into the space, leaving them at the door as he rushed over to the short but handsome man standing at the front of the room. Theo’s eyes scanned the width of the space expectantly, searching the faces for the woman who vexed him only days before, but she was nowhere to be seen. The two women she had arrived to the bar with, who Theo learned from Hannah to be Pansy and Daphne, were standing in fourth position in the front row.

“Mac! _So_ happy to see you! I was just telling myself the other day that it’s been _ages_ since I”ve seen you. A face _almost_ as pretty as my own.” Gilderoy gripped Cormac by the chin and squeezed before shoving him back playfully and addressing the group before him. “Let’s do this, shall we?” He started the music with a click of a button on the remote before tossing it down. The music was loud and fast, but everyone in the room was standing dainty and straight, slowly bending and stretching in a more traditional manner. Theo and Blaise exchanged looks, Cormac literally hopping into one of the front lines and squeezing himself between two women. With a shrug, Theo and Blaise joined in, watching closely.

He was enthralled in the way Gilderoy kept the energy up in this room. HIs body truly felt the physical aspects of the practice, but he recalled laughing more than focusing on his stance - which was odd. When the class was nearing an end, Gilderoy broke everyone into groups of seven to execute a difficult ensemble they reviewed throughout the duration of class. That’s when he finally saw her. She was no doubt the thickest girl in the group, not showing the typical size of a prima ballerina, but she moved with more grace than anyone in the room combined, landing any and all jumps without making a single sound as though she were a feather.

Millicent - that is what Hannah told him - was extraordinary. Unlike her taking the lead in the club, she hid amongst the crowd in the company, trying to blend in, even though she moved better than any of the others. Theo instantly questioned her switch of confidence. _Too technical_ \- that's what she said to him. She combined technique with everything else, bringing Theo closer and closer to her side. Before he knew it, he was standing directly next to her at the side of the room as the other groups of seven danced across the floor.

“Twinkle Toes.” She began, dabbing her forehead with a cloth. “What an unpleasant surprise.”

“It’s Theo, actually.”

“If I cared to know your name, I would have bothered to ask for it.” She still didn’t meet him in the eyes, looking on as another group moved across the floor. She was stretching her right arm, preparing to dance again in another wave.

“Well, you have it so if you ever-” He was determined to speak to the angel in pointe shoes, actually feeling his palms clam up from nerves. It was not like him, avoiding going out of his way for _anyone_ let alone a woman who insulted him.

She rolled her eyes, shifting her gaze to his. “Listen, I don’t know what made you decide to show up here today, but y-”

“You.” He cut her off, sharing the wide eyed expression she had on her face.

“What?”

Theo reached up behind him, scratching the back of his neck in a newfound wave of nerves. “You’re the reason I showed up today.”

She eyed him for a time, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. “Well, that confirms it.” She got into position to dance across the floor, turning to him again before she moved with her group. “You’re delusional.”

He breathed a laugh, watching her dance off again. They didn’t get another opportunity to speak during class, literally dancing around one another for the remainder of the session. By the end, there wasn’t a single person in the room who didn’t _feel_ the workout of the trying routine.

“Way to bring a building down! I want this perfected by the weekend! Don’t just turn from it all like a blind man! Work those step counts, people! Now scram, I need to catch up with an old friend.” Gilderoy disappeared behind the door with an eager Cormac in tow.Theo never imagined the two men would voluntarily exit a room full of mirrored walls before anyone else, but he took that opportunity to approach Millicent again. Before he opened his mouth, however, she had stopped him before a single word could come out.

“Look. I’m not sure what you _thought_ would happen by showing up here today, but I’m not interested in Baton Boys.” She groaned at his confused expression. “They would have your hide if they knew you were here by the way.”

“I’m not a Baton boy.” Theo tried to be angry, the recent memory of failing his mother still stinging in his mind, but he wasn’t able to. He swallowed, bringing a nervous hand to the back of his head as before during their last attempt in conversation.

“No? The whole stick up your arse thing had me fooled.”

“I don’t have a stick up my-”

“Yo, Theo! You coming?” Blaise was standing by the door with his bag on his shoulder, holding the strap with an impatient grip. Theo met his eyes, familiar with the expression on his friend’s face. He flicked his eyes back to Millicent, who also had impatience spread across her features.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Millicent breathed a laugh, half smiling, “I highly doubt it.”

♫ • ♫

The next few days were uneventful overall, aside from Theo once again finding himself saying goodbye to his longest known friend as he prepared another tour with his company. In truth, Theo was used to it by now, building up the strength to say goodbye to Blaise. They were typically inseparable when he was in town, the days where Blaise stayed relentlessly by his side until Theo could find some peace when he finally left again.

He’d always feel the growing anticipation with each of those passing days where he could be alone again, mentally preparing his mindset to get back into the mode of training and practicing towards his goal once more. The next audition was a mere two months away, and Theo knew he could do without the distractions, despite how much he adored his friend’s company. It was hard enough to concentrate without Blaise badgering him about his life choices, what with his mind now straying to that of Millicent Bulstrode, the mysterious dancing queen.

“Come with me.” Blaise was looking eagerly at Theo as he packed the last of his clothes into his bag. Theo was leant against the wall, his feet crossed at the ankles. “You’d be so much better off with me and the gang.”

Theo contemplated Blaise’s words for a time as he often did before Blaise left. It was the same conversation they always found themselves in; and the ending result never changed.

"Blaise, we’ve been over this.”

“I know, I know.” Blaise turned from him then, sighing as he wrinkled his forehead in thought, no doubt running the list of items in his head to avoid leaving anything behind. Theo breathed a laugh, clearing his throat casually to cover up his amusement. He involuntarily mocked the idea that Blaise truly _was_ leaving something behind, something that wouldn’t fit into his duffle bag.

“You know I would if-”

“-If you didn’t owe it to your mum, I get it, mate.” Blaise turned to him then, a smile ghosting a corner of his mouth. “I guess I’m just hoping I’d have changed your mind by now. But, my offer will always stand. Whenever you’re ready.”

Theo knew he meant it, he’d always meant it, but Theo just wasn’t ready to give up on his goal to carry on his mother’s legacy. He was far too proud to call it quits now, not when he’d been so close the last time. Regardless of the constant let downs this path has led him, his stubbornness still had more to prove. He valued Blaise for understanding that, never pushing too far on his offer to join him.

“Good luck at your next audition, mate.” Blaise picked up his bag, flinging it casually over his left shoulder. Theo pushed off the wall then, taking and cupping Blaise’s hand as their chests met briefly in their accustomed half hugged farewell. He watched with a sad smile as his friend left their flat, standing in the semi dark room as the afternoon sun cast shadows about the space.

He sighed, wishing a part of him _did_ follow Blaise out the door, but he somehow found himself stuck in his ways. Well, mostly. His thoughts lingered again to a certain woman who insulted his entire existence with a single sentence, and laughed at how intrigued he was by her. He had a thought, one that could prove to be a waste of his time for training, prepared to take the risk nonetheless.

So over the next four weeks, Theo found himself attending the Basilisks studio every Thursday evening, coming to know Gilderoy better. His approach to the classical art Theo had grown up to living and breathing was unorthodox to say the least, but Theo followed his every lesson regardless. And at the end of each said class he would find himself completely out of breath, and even more dismissed by Millicent. She would keep her distance in the back of the studio, never once taking her turn to shine in the front of the company. Theo returned to her fiery demeanor in the club when they had met, and once again questioned the change in her confidence.

One night, while he was preparing to leave, stretching his aching and exhausted muscles, she caught his eye. He could of sworn she smiled before furrowing her brow, but he couldn’t be sure. He was determined to find out, however, and stood abruptly, ignoring the screaming protest of his muscles. Perhaps she had changed her views of him after all. When his attentions were called to a smiling Gilderoy, however, he missed his opportunity.

“Theodore! I simply _must_ speak with you.” Theo peered over Gilderoy’s shoulder, craning his head in hopes to catch another glimpse of Millicent, but she was gone. “My dear boy, you need to relax!” Gilderoy clapped his hands down hard on Theo’s shoulders, giving him a shake.

“Sir?”

“Here, take this. It’s a compilation I’ve been working on for our next production.” Gilderoy handed him a compact disk in a clear case. “No need to thank me, but you’ll find its contents a masterful mesh of classic and _now_!” Gilderoy fanned his hands in front of him in his usual excited manner.

“Your selection is rather-”

“Eclectic? I know. I make it myself.” Theo eyed Gilderoy, ignoring his over enthusiastic interruption. He was clearly proud of his work, and Theo wasn’t one to question him, especially since he’d allowed Theo to attend his company sessions. “Theodore, you have to _feel_ the music. Connect with it! You are so much more than those old ways. Trust me.”

Theo accepted the compact disc from the superior man, thanking him as he made his way home. For the next few days, he focused his practices at home using the compilation Gilderoy had gifted him. He had tried to feel the music as the man suggested, but to no avail. He felt silly dancing a classical _La Bayadere_ to vibrating beats and thrums of electronica.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d hope to accomplish by continuing his sessions with the Basilisks, but he never failed to attend those Thursday rehearsals. Millicent still hadn’t spoken to him, and he continued to watch her attempt to blend in with the back of the crowd. He found himself frowning when she would look away when she met his eyes. He wasn’t exactly _trying_ to get her attention - at least that is what he insisted on telling himself, but his ego was taking a hit. It was true, he had hoped to prove to the voluptuous vixen he was more than traditional technique, though it nearly killed him to think it. He was brought up believing success was based merely on the accuracy and precision, never once fearing his hand was positioned _too_ perfectly or his counts were _too_ on time. It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t, of course, until he came to be included and welcomed into the Basilisk clan did he truly begin to understand Millicent’s meaning. His selection in music started Theo’s revelation, his eyes soon scanning everyone who participated in Gilderoy’s sessions -all equally out of breath, but completely _different_. He hadn’t noticed the uniqueness of each individual before, only taking in the three initial dancers who led him there in the first place. It would make sense someone of Millicent’s size would be welcomed into such a production.

“Theodore!” Called Gilderoy after he dismissed everyone for the night. Theo caught a glimpse of Millicent as she passed, walking alone toward the door. He was determined to speak with her, regardless of the outcome. He’d allowed her to avoid him far too long. “You know, dear boy, you remind me a lot of _me_ when I was your age. I was dancing far longer than I was walking, you see-”

Theo didn’t wait for Gilderoy to stop talking when he made his leave, shouting a quick _thank you, sir_ over his shoulder as he rushed out the door. He respected the older gentlemen and all of his accomplishments, but once he got started on himself, it would take half the night before he would take a breath again.

“Millicent!” Theo was out of breath by the time he caught her, partly blaming the critically physical rehearsal he just left. He was glad to see her turn back.

"Twinkle Toes."

“May I walk with you?” Theo said between breaths, ignoring the smile her appellation place upon his lips.

“Would you leave me alone if I said no?”

“Probably not.”

“Then I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

They walked together in the dark, nearly vacant streets. Theo wasn’t certain of the direction they were headed, but he walked alongside of Millicent, her features coming into view every few steps when they passed under a streetlight. The breeze increased around them when they passed an alleyway between buildings, neither speaking for a time and listening to the distant horns of impatient cab drivers. It was peaceful though, the most relaxed either of them had been while in the other’s presence. Theo would peer over at her from time to time, puffs of clouds released with every breath she made into the cold air, her eyes stationed in front of her, her posture straight.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you I love the way you dance.” He didn’t know he had said it, not until he heard the words leave his mouth and see the smirk ghosting her lips to his right.

“I’d say the same, but I’d be lying.” Theo should have been offended, but the look she gave him made him laugh instead, throwing his head down as he flashed a grin through soft chortles.

“So you keep saying.” His steps seized, and he stood in front of her, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “You should teach me.”

Millicent scoffed at first – from disbelief he was certain – but she pursed her lips, pausing the words she had planned to say.  He studied the expression on her face, the furrow in her brow.

“Careful now, I’d hate for you to hurt that brain of yours from overuse.”

She playfully slapped at his arm then, turning back to begin walking again. “Oh shut up, you _Tulle_.”

Theo lightly placed a hand on Millicent’s arm,spinning her to face him. “Was that… was that a _joke_ , Millicent?”

“The only joke I see here, Theo, is _you_.” She winked, walking at a slightly more upbeat pace. Theo allowed her to have the last word, hearing the playfulness in her tone. It was then they stopped in front of a set of old, stone steps.

The building appeared to be an old warehouse of sorts, showing wear by the cracks under the stone window landings and mortar. The bricks’ color was faded to gray, only a few lay with the tinge of their original red. Theo scrunched his face slightly as he took in the sight, Millicent ascending to the first step, and turning slightly to peer down at him over her shoulder.

“I’d invite you in, but by the look on your face-“

“No. I want to. Come in I mean.” Theo’s usual debonair was lacking as he fumbled to say his words. He cursed the crack in his tone, running his long fingers through his dark hair. “If you’d like for me to.”

Millicent all but rolled her eyes, taking the final steps to the worn front door. The paint was peeling in places, but he could see it was once a brilliant shade of green. “Come on, Twinkle Toes.”

Despite the cold exterior, the space inside was warm and welcoming; a loft above the only closed in section in the openness of the apartment with a single door beside the kitchen. It was a place without restrictions; no shadows to hide in. His eyes were wide as he took in the two story brick walls, the exposed pipes in the ceiling, and the sound of his shoes on the smooth floor beneath his feet.

“You look surprised,” Millicent said gliding to the couch in the center of the room, dropping her dance bag on the soft, plush fabrics.

“A bit, I won’t lie.” His eyes scanned the entire space again.

She stood beside her couch, her arms over her chest. “So, why me?” Theo’s gaze flicked to hers and her arms slumped from the sudden attention. He smirked before taking the few steps to close the distance between them.

“Beauxbaton’s.” Millicent released an agitated groan as she made to turn away, but Theo gripped her arm. “It was my mother’s dream.”

“Is it _yours_?” Theo furrowed his brow. He contemplated her question - such a simple question - and found himself at a loss. He’d questioned his path before, but never had he heard it be questioned aloud. Millicent slid her arm loose, narrowing her eyes. “It isn’t, is it?”

“Of _course_ it is,” Theo snapped back. _It had to be_.

“How many times have you auditioned?” It was like he was wearing his failure as a letterman jacket, displaying his disappointment in full.

“Four times.”

Millicent nodded, sliding past Theo and sitting down on her couch. Her posture was straight, tense even, with her hands curled into her lap.

“Why not give up? Four times is quite the let down.”

Theo joined her, leaning forward with his arms over his knees.

“My mother gave everything for me to succeed. And because of that dream, _her_ dream, I wasn’t there when she-” Theo paused, peering over at Millicent. “It’s just important to me I do this for her, alright?”

Millicent narrowed her eyes and he hoped she wouldn’t push him for more details. He could tell she wanted to, but she pursed her lips and jerked her head instead.

“Okay, Twinkle Toes. I’ll help you.”

♫ • ♫

He had forgotten how much he enjoyed dancing, not once over contemplating the steps laid out for him. His mind ran clearer and clearer with each passing week he spent with Millicent. She didn’t allow him time to overthink, opening up to another side to his skills. He came to admire Millicent as they worked together on a new routine for his audition, using the music Gilderoy had gifted him a month prior. He no longer felt silly when she made him arabesque classically to the harsh beats bouncing off the studio walls. She had made dancing fun again, laughing at a misstep or teasing him when he glanced at his reflection, something he never imagined he’d be able to do again without wincing.

She was once again that confident woman from the club, dominating the dance floor. He found himself transfixed as she moved with him to the steps in the routine, and his mind trailed to _new_ activities he couldn’t voice aloud. Her energy was infectious, causing him to reach farther than he ever had with Minerva, as if he had a new purpose to prove.

“Okay, Twinkle Toes,” she called from his side. She was dancing alongside of him on the floor. “Get ready for the change. _Mm ba ba de Um bum ba de Um bu bu bum da de”_ She said aloud, emphasizing each word. When the song came to a close, she applauded his movements before sliding down the wall to sit, her legs bent in front of her at the knees.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Theo said sitting next to her, handing over his water bottle.

“Proceed with caution.” Her face was firm, holding little emotion, but her tone was light.

“That first night I met you-“

Millicent leaned back, her hands over her chest. “Whoa wait. You’re not going to give me one of those crazy stories about how it was love at first sight are you?” She giggled at his stunned expression.

“I was actually going to comment on how confident you were. You drew me in.” Millicent bit her lip, smiling as she focused on the floor. “Are you _blushing_? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Har har, Theo.” She said nudging his shoulder with her own. “And I’ll have you know, I’m _always_ confident.”

“Oh?” Theo shifted so he faced her. “If that were so, you wouldn’t hide in the back of your company.”

Millicent stiffened, straightening her shoulders as if to be offended.

“I do not-”

“You _do_. I’ve often wondered as to why? You’re incredible.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Millicent said standing and grabbing her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She left without waiting for his response.

♫ • ♫

The following evening, Theo met Millicent at the studio. When he arrived, she was already dancing, moving with more grace than a swan spreading her wings to fly. He watched her eagerly, slowly setting down his bag and finding himself drawn to her. She pirouetted across the floor, noticing Theo for the first time as he stepped in behind her, reaching out and holding her at the back of her waist.

Millicent didn’t struggle, but Theo felt her body stiffen when he lifted her high above his head, extending his arms. She molded into his touch, her back arching as she bent back and pointed her toes into a stretched posse, her head nearly rested against the back of his. He held her there, both losing themselves to the music and connection of their bodies together. When she folded inward, his grip firmly on the back of her waist, he lowered her, twirling her into his chest as he lowered her to the ground. She stood breathless with her head on his shoulder, her arms held loosely around his neck.  When she pulled back, Theo was struck with the depth in her eyes.

Her expression caused him to stumble and fall into her gaze, his throat going dry. He had seen many of Millicent’s faces, both her facades and her natural softness, but the look she gave him now was something new entirely. She blinked, lowering her eyes, and he was finally able to breathe. The music had long since ended, but the two of them stood in one another’s arms far longer than any counts or beats, as if a new song had began only the two of them could hear.

“Hi.”

Millicent shoved Theo playfully away. “Hi? That’s really all you have t-”

He reached for her arm, pulling her back into his arms, and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t resist him, instead dragging her arms back up around his neck, tugging him closer and deepening their kiss. He hummed at her response, cupping and lifting her arse to wrap her legs up around his waist as he moved, pressing her back against the mirror. She had both hands on his cheeks, allowing his tongue entrance, the two of them lost in a wave of lust. Millicent reluctantly pulled away, pressing her forehead to his, both breathless and unable to move. Reluctantly, she lowered herself from his grip, her hands now resting on his chest.

“Your audition is tomorrow, we should….we should probably practice.” She patted his chest once then stepped back, walking over to the stereo to she reset the music. Theo followed her, placing his hand on her waist. He lowered his mouth over her ear, causing her to shiver under his touch. His voice was low as his words left his lips, pressing them lightly against her ear. His grip on her waist tightened and she released a breath, resting her head back on his shoulder.

“Why do you hide?” He was lost in her, and fell further as his eyes met hers when she turned. She searched him quizzingly, furrowing her brow.

“What? What does that have to do wi-” Her words trailed off.

“Millicent, you’re a bloody damn good dancer. Why do you hold back in rehearsals with Gil?”

“Why do you give too much?” She was tense beneath his touch, responding defensively. She squirmed away from Theo, staring him down with her hands in fists. “What happened that caused you to be so _obsessed_ with Beauxbaton’s?”

“Why are you getting so angry? I’m not obsessed I-”

“You _are_ ! It’s why you’re here isn’t it? It’s why you came to the studio. Haven’t you put yourself through enough with that _damn_ company?” Millicent’s voice was close to a shrill, and Theo saw yet another side of Millicent he’d never seen before - pain.

“Should I be asking you the same question?” It was more of a statement, Theo not missing the way Millicent bit back on her lip. He watched her lower herself to the floor, her legs tucked beneath her, fidgeting her hands nervously in her lap and entwining her fingers. Theo sat down beside her in a sigh. “I guess we both have things to get off our chests.”

Millicent flicked her eyes, her face attempting to show indifference, however, Theo had already seen her vulnerability. He challenged her, arching both his eyebrows in hopes to ease the tension he unintentionally created between them.

“I don’t have to get anything off.” She crossed her arms over her chest, frustrated at Theo who began laughing at her words. “Oh you git! You knew what I meant!” She slapped his chest and he caught her hand, and her eyes. “Would it help if I went first?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” When Theo simply smirked, she breathed a laugh. “Ugh, fine. I stand in the back because it’s safe, Theo. Safe from the sneers and the sly remarks, safe from the eyes scanning over the many inches of me, and safe from my fear itself taking over.” She peered up at him. “Happy?”

“Millicent, you have nothing to fear from that. I find you brilliant when you dance. Off the floor is debatable, but not on.” She went to slap him again with a sassy _shut up_ on her lips. “I’m serious.”

“So am I! Beauxbaton’s has a way of getting into your head. Rejection from them can be harsh at times.”

"Wait, you've auditioned for Beauxbaton’s?”

“Yes, yes. Now you know where the disdain for that ridiculous academy came from.  But this is your story. C’mon. Let it out.” Theo’s playful demeanor faded, and he shifted where he sat.

“My mum pretty much raised me on her own, my father dipping in and out of our lives because he was too drunk to take on his role of head of the house. My mum tried her best, giving up her own dreams so I could have mine, just worked out that I had the same one she did.” He paused, closing his eyes. “I stayed late rehearsing for my first audition, pushing and reaching and completely oblivious to the pain my mum endured. I came home to find my dad being hauled away in a police car.” Theo ran his hands down his face, hiding the tinge of pink from the burn of tears he refused to release.

“And you mum?” Millicent placed her hand over his, bending her head so he would catch her eyes. 

“The coroner said she suffered trauma to her head. My father he..he hit her and she fell down the stairs. They said she was dead before she reached the bottom.”

“You couldn’t have known that would happen, Theo.”

“I know. But she gave _everything_ , kept coming up with love but it was so slashed and torn. I owe her this.”

Millicent moved closer, tightening her grip on his hand.

“What you owe, is happiness to yourself. Your mum gave you that opportunity. You don’t need Beauxbaton’s!”

He’d heard Blaise tell him the same thing more than a thousand times, but it meant more coming from her. He had no idea why, but he found himself closing the space between them again, kissing Millicent with such fervor she melted into him. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her up onto his lap, their mouths only breaking to catch a quick breath before they were kissing one another again. They made love right there on the floor of the studio, filling the holes that left them open from their confessions, and meshing the two - the classical and the now - together.

♫ • ♫

They walked to the auditorium together that following morning, hand in hand. Theo was feeling truly relaxed for the first time since approaching these doors. He’d always been over confident, sure, but never relaxed, his mind racing of the stress brought on from the weight of his past.

“Remember,” Millicent had her hands on his cheeks. “ _Don’t think_. The steps are nothing. The music is everything. Just dance.”

♫ • ♫

The auditorium was deathly quiet. Theo walked without a sound to the center of the stage, already feeling less confident than he had just moments before. He stood in a perfect first position, his arms presented down in front of him, an elegant extension of his body, as he took in a breath. Scanning the full length of the room, the lights beamed down on his face, causing his already perspiring forehead to grow hotter. His eyes focused first on the judges, three pairs of stern eyes glared back at him from expressionless faces, and he swallowed. Hard.

It felt like ages before his music selection began, but he lifted his chin and gaze to present a much more confident stance than he truly felt. Millicent’s face materialized in his mind, the two of them dancing the routine together as his body moved to the _not-so-classical_ song that bellowed now in the open space of the auditorium. Strings, combined with Gilderoy’s dubbed beats mashed into the rhythmic flow, slowly put his mind at ease. Her words playing over in his mind – _You’ve been here before. You’re not just moving to the music, you’re_ ** _feeling_** _it._

And feel it he did. He no longer focused on precision, but on the way he molded his body to the song, bringing the mashup of the classical arts and modern dance to life through extended arms, flexed legs, and the height of his jumps. Everyone in the room faded from his vision, everyone but the materialized Millicent who continued to dance beside him in his mind, feeling the vibrations burst through his body with every step. Before he knew it, he was coming to the close, his heart racing, beating in time with the added base bursting through the speakers. He thought of that last run through with Millicent. The feel of her body flush against his as he surprised her with a lift above his head. The emotions that poured from both of their instrumental bodies in a glowing aura, lighting up the entire space of her private studio.

Here in the now, he didn’t even realize he had stuck his final move, his right arm extended high above his head as he was knelt on one knee, his thighs burning from the multiple counts of his _Saut de Basque_ . The last remnants of the music rang, the auditorium slowly falling victim again to the silence it knew before he presented himself on the stage. Breathing heavily, he rose in a single fluid motion back to first position. He was about to make his exit when he heard - _clapping?_ Peering out against the heavy lighting against his face, he could make out a single figure standing in the back of the room, the echo of her hands colliding swiftly together brought the faintest of smiles to ghost his lips. As he bowed, he heard a raspy grumbled voice behind him as he made his way to stage right.

“Young lady this is a _closed_ audition!”

♫ • ♫

Theo burst through the auditorium doors and was immediately met with Millicent’s embrace.

“You did amazing! I’m happy to see I’ve successfully removed the stick from your arse!” Theo laughed, hooking his arm around her waist as he guided her from the building.

“Whoa, wait,” Millicent slid into his path, stopping him. “Aren’t you going to wait for the results?”

“I don’t need to.” Theo was smiling, leaning down to capture her lips. He felt her melt into him, but she stiffened again, pulling away with wide eyes.

“Theo, you’ve trained your arse off for this audition!”

Theo contemplated her question, taking both hands into his. “I don’t need this stupid company. I’ve decided to take Blaise up on his offer to join him and the gang.”

He watched her expression widen, her smile with it. It was perfect. “I don’t need Beauxbaton’s. I danced for my mom’s legacy for so long, I finally auditioned for me; and you know who I saw up there with me?” He peered down at her, his piercing blue eyes falling into the depths of her nearly black ones. “I didn’t see me hitting every step or my mom’s memory gliding across on pointe anymore - this was our last dance. I saw you. _Us_.”

“Well that confirms it.” She said, breathing a smile. “You’re delusional.”

“Insanity laughs, right?” Theo took her closer into his arms, a laugh on his lips as she playfully smacked his chest. “Join Blaise’s company with me. I mean, why can’t we give ourselves one more chance?”

Her reaction was what he expected. She had opened up to him regarding her reasons for staying with the Basilisks, lacking the courage to take on a frontline position in a smaller company. But she had taught him so much these past months, he wanted to give her the same.

“Let’s do it. No pressure.”

“Oh, but you dance so well _under pressure_.”


End file.
